


Valentine's Prompts

by notsafeforowls



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, February 2019 Prompt Set, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-20 19:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsafeforowls/pseuds/notsafeforowls
Summary: Twenty-eight prompts for the twenty-eight days of February. Chapter titles include the ship and the prompt.





	1. avalance - nonchalant

The first few times, Sara almost thinks that it’s a slip of the tongue. People say all kinds of things when the world’s just gone to hell, and when everything they know and care about is falling apart around them. There’s no reason for Ava to keep saying that she loves her.

 

But Ava keeps saying it.

 

During sex, between gasps against Sara’s neck.

 

When Ava’s half asleep and shielding her face from the sunlight streaming in the bedroom window.

 

When Sara’s going off to another mission where she might die.

 

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

 

Again and again.

 

“I love you, but sometimes your team – your family – is a bit much. Especially when it comes to parties.” Ava picks tiny pieces of glass from Sara’s hair and kisses her hand, one of the only parts of her that Sara’s sure isn’t going to make Ava bleed.

 

“I can’t believe I still love you when you’re dressed like this.” And, oh, Sara misses puppets and fancy dresses at times like this, when she’s trying to get out of seven layers of a pink prom nightmare, and Ava’s just standing there laughing at her.

 

It seems to come so easily to Ava, and it’s terrifying. The way that it’s so easy for her to say those three little words. It’s not that Sara finds it difficult to think them – she thinks them all the time – but saying them feels dangerous. As if she’s tempting the universe to take this, to take _them_ , away from her. It’s terrifying enough to have the team to lose, to have this second family that can be hurt or killed or just plain lost, but Ava? Ava’s a completely different situation.

 

But Sara says it anyway.

 

She grabs Ava’s hand when they’re making dinner one night (well, attempting to; Sara had Gideon fabricate a mini fire extinguisher just in case) and says, “I love you,” when Ava’s stirring the sauce for the pasta.

 

Laughs and says, “I can’t believe I got lucky enough to fall in love with such a _rebel_ ,” when Ava steals a car for her in the seventies.

 

Whispers it against Ava’s lips.

 

Kisses the top of Ava’s head in the middle of the night, sliding her fingers through Ava’s hair as she sleeps.

 

Sara says it anyway because she’s suffered enough, lost enough, and she deserves this. They both do.


	2. steelwave - marked

Mick likes leaving marks. Finger-shaped bruises that are just dark enough that he can run his fingers over them the next time, or he can watch Nate unconsciously touching them through a layer of clothing. He loves to roll over when they’re stretched out on the bed afterwards, lazy and satisfied, to leave hickeys just under the line of Nate’s collar so that no one at the Time Bureau can see them.

 

Or at least he usually leaves them where no one else can see them. Mick’s halfway through switching sides, intending to leave a bright mark right beside a particularly nice cluster of freckles with Nate stops him.

 

“I think you should leave one right _there_ ,” he says, guiding Mick until his mouth is right against Nate’s throat, right above where Mick knows Nate’s tie sits, where there’s nothing there to hide it.

 

“Everybody will see it,” Mick says against Nate’s throat, a half-hearted protest, “and it won’t take them long to work out what’s going on.”

 

They’ve never tried to hide what they’re doing, whatever this is, but it’s not something they’ve told people about. Maybe Gary won’t make the connection, but Mick knows that the minute Ava sees the hickey, she’ll start to wonder who gave it to Nate, and it won’t take her long to eliminate the few other possibilities and realise it was Mick.

 

“ _Good_.” Nate arches against Mick, his blunt nails digging into Mick’s back hard enough that Mick knows he’ll have his own marks tomorrow. “They can live with a few hickeys and knowing—.” He stops, suddenly tensing, and Mick pulls away until he can get a good look at Nate’s face. He looks unsure. “Unless you don’t want them to know about us. I mean, I know it wasn’t supposed to go beyond a one-time thing, and I get it if you don’t—”

 

Mick cuts him off with a kiss.

 

“You’re the one who’s going to be walking around at work with them on show for everyone you talk to.” Which, to be fair, is probably part of the appeal. The idea of everyone seeing the evidence is a turn-on, which means that Mick already knows what they’re going to do tomorrow night.

 

“Gary showed up minus a nipple because he _didn’t_ have sex with John the first time they hooked up. He showed people, Mick. No one can say anything about a hickey.” Nate bites lightly at Mick’s lower lip. “Come on, make sure everyone knows what I’ve been up to.”

 

And, well, if Mick makes sure to leave a light bite mark right under the hickey, right where Nate’s tie will rest tomorrow, then Mick’s excuse is that he should give the Time Bureau idiots something to _really_ talk about.


	3. zarlie - "try me"

“When I said ‘try me’,” Zari manages, her breath catching a little on the last word as her fingers tangle in Charlie’s hair, “this is not what I meant.”

 

Charlie stops suddenly, looking up at Zari with a devious smile on her face. “Oh, it’s _not_?” she says, all faux innocence, her mouth wet. “That’s a shame, because I’m really enjoying my taste test down here.” She licks her lips and slides down to kiss Zari’s knee, too far away from where Zari wants her to put her mouth back.

 

Her dress is somewhere on the other side of her quarters, maybe just inside the door, Zari isn’t sure. She thinks that Charlie started unzipping it before the door was even open – “black and white look good on you, but they’ll look even better off you” – and that Gideon’s have to fix the part of the zip that Charlie broke when it jammed halfway down. Her shoes are somewhere outside, probably in the middle of the hallway for someone to trip over and bang on Zari’s door later tonight, and she’s still wearing her bra and panties – white, to match the dress – which is somehow perfect and ridiculous at the same time, especially since the panties (shoved to one side) must keep getting in the way, and surely Charlie wants the use of both hands?

 

Zari swallows, running through a dozen responses about how she’s enjoying this as well, how she’s finally found a good use for Charlie’s smart mouth, but Charlie grins and twists two fingers inside her, drawing a moan from Zari.

 

“Keep going.”

 

“Mmm, I’m not sure I want to now.” Charlie kisses Zari’s leg again, a little higher up this time. “Maybe I’ll just leave you here and find something else to do.” Halfway up her thigh now. “Do you think the guys are still arguing over who gets the whisky?” Inches away. “Maybe I’ll steal the bottle right off the table.”

 

Zari isn’t sure who moves first. She can’t tell if Charlie surges across those last inches to press her mouth back between Zari’s legs, or if she pulls Charlie across them. Either way, Charlie buries her face between Zari’s legs, the press of her tongue hard and almost too rough, but somehow perfect at the same time.

 

“Don’t stop,” Zari gasps, sliding one hand down to clutch at the collar of Charlie’s shirt, shivering when Charlie laughs and then moans against her. It’s a nice shirt. Part of the prim and proper outfit that Gideon had made for her. Zari’s going to ruin it in a few minutes. There’s no way that the two dozen tiny little buttons on the front are going to survive when Zari removes it. She might even rip the skirt, just to make Charlie ask Gideon to repair or replace it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full prompt: “When I said: “Try me” this is not what I meant!”


	4. darhkatom - possessive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some speculation regarding the second half of season four.

 

A lot of things have gone wrong in Nora’s life. That brief time when she was almost a normal little girl. The one time she almost managed to get away from the path she’d been put on. The day she’d almost tried to run away from the cult. The time she didn’t die when Mallus escaped his prison, but also did until Ray went back with her dad to save her.

 

Trying to make amends by handing herself in didn’t really work either, so Nora’s tempted to make that her own person slogan. Tried it, didn’t work, trying something else. It’s no worse than screwing it up for the better, no matter what Ray says.

 

Plus, they’re already in hell – or at least some kind of hell; Nora’s not entirely sure if it’s _the_ hell, or another version, or just one of many, and she doesn’t want to think too hard on it. The rest of the team is who-knows-where with John. Between John’s antics, Sara beating up anything that moves, and Mick setting fire to anything that stays still long enough, Nora’s half expecting to slip past unnoticed.

 

Still… Nora feels eyes on her as soon as they get into the view of the creatures.

 

“I’ve got this,” she says, walking past Ray. Maybe in front of him a little bit, at least as much as she can. Ray, for all his height, shrinks back behind her, one hand lightly touching her arm.

 

It’s not as much a reassurance that he’s there as it is him making sure that she’s still there, Nora realises.

 

The feeling of all that power, of everything Mallus promised her, comes flooding back as she looks at the crowd in front of them. But it’s not his power now. Or her dad’s. It’s hers. Nora takes a slow breath as she studies the crowd, takes in the recognition, the _fear_ , in their eyes – or whatever they have that passes for eyes. She may have failed by anyone else’s standards, but by theirs, Nora is the one who had Mallus in her head for years and lived.

 

“You know who I am. You know why I’m here.” She swallows hard and summons the courage, tries to remember who she was when Mallus was in her head. Nora never wants to be that person again, enjoys the kindness and caring that comes easily, but this is useful. She takes all of the anger – at Mallus, at her dad, at the damn world, and puts it in her words. “I expect that you’re going to let me and my friends do what we’ve come here to do without getting in our way. Am I right?”

 

A murmur runs through the crowd. No one’s brave enough to object. The demon closest to her flinches and takes a step back. His eyes flit to Ray behind her, his intentions clear.

 

“If you lay a finger on him,” Nora warns, “then whatever your time in that prison with Mallus was like will be _nothing_ compared to what I will do to you.”

 

No one objects when she walks right towards the crowd. The demons and creatures (and what she thinks is some kind of bear monster) part around her. Ray follows

 

“That was amazing,” Ray says, awed, as soon as they’re far enough away from everyone else. He squeezes her arm lightly.

 

Nora shrugs his hand off just long enough to reach up and take it a second after she loses the warmth of his touch.

 

“Well, I didn’t want them putting their hands all over you.”


End file.
